Outmir
by Robbie Miller
Summary: The prolouge is finished, chapter one and chapter two are still in progress.
1. Introduction

Introduction to Redwall

First off if you have never read the redwall series I would strongly Incourage you to do so. As you may have noticed, none of the characters are human, they are animals. They are divided into two main groups Vermin, basically the bad guys, and goodbeast, you guessed it they are the good guys. Vermin are basically any animal you would think of as being bad. For example, foxes, rats, weasles, wolves (though rare), wildcats, ect.. The good beasts consist of all other animals such as squirrils, otters (my personal favorite), mice, hares, badgers, hedgehogs, ect. The Goodbeasts live in an Abbey known as Redwall. Redwall is a place of peace and vermin usually attack it.

I will add more later, it is about 10:30 here and I am getting tired. If you have anything you would like to add tell me and I will add it on there.


	2. Prolouge

Prologue

Redin Outmir killed the last theif, ignoring his plea for mercy. He'd grown acustosmed to the pathetic wails, the promises for power, and the claims of wives and children. He'd killed for so long that it was like a ghastly orchestreal piece, in which the sound of the halberd singing as it cut through air and flesh alike was a prelude, the terrified screeches of his victims was a suite, and the dying gasp, the finale. He played death with gruesome effeciency, ignoring it's threats to come one day to claim him. Killing had become more than an instinct, more than a second nature.It had become a need. It was an unsatisfiable lust to kill. It was slowly taking away his sanity, stroke by stroke, bit by bit, untill it consumed him.

It terrified him.

Despite all this, he couldn't bear to kill meaninglessly. Maybe it was the small amount of sanity he had left that was fighting a losing battle against a oncoming wave of corruption. Maybe it was because killing indiscriminately didn't have as much thrill. Whatever it was, it was what caused him to be a mercenary. When he was enlisted, he killed at a moment's notice. When he wasn't, would-be avengers sacrificed themselves on his blades, it was an equilibrium.

There were times, however, when neither situation would present itself, and he felt himself slipping into madness. It was times like that when he would take it upon himself to slay those that would foolishly block his path, unleashing an almost otherworldly fury on his hapless victims, holding nothing back. Sometimes he would lose himself completely, seeing a group of theiving foxes one minute, then seeing all of them completely dismembered, his halberd glinting crimson in the sun's glare.

He constantly found himself thinking back to when it had revolted him to see vast amounts of blood and parts of the inside of the body. It was a time when all the pain and strife in the world had been set upon him in a second, crushing his perspective on life, brutally cutting short the sheltered life that he had lived, and thrusting him into an unfamiliar world where the cruel outnumbered the merciful. He had grown up cruel himself to survive, seeing the merciful as weak, stupid animals who were bound for a short life. He was determined to survive all the pain he had felt, overcome it and weild it himself, never knowing why, never really caring.

And so he became. He learned quickly that one would have to be stronger than one's antagonist to survive, as well as a reliable blade. Nothing he weilded felt right in his paws, so he made his own weapon. At first it was a branch that had split from a large oak. He shaped it into a staff, not a deadly weapon, not yet at least. He recived his idea for his weapon when, concluding a battle, Redin found a discarded Scytheblade embedded in a tree. He attached it to his staff and swung it a few times. It fit perfectly.

He cut short his reminiscence bitterly. He hated thinking of the past, of it's truths that he could not bear. He sagged slightly. He was weak of hunger, he realized. He was lucky enough to have found these bandits at all, otherise he would have starved. He foraged what food he could, devouring it hungrily. He came to a loaf of bread that was half-soaked in blood. He had to force himself to not eat it, for he naturally relished the taste of blood, and after a mere taste he would end up lusting for more.


	3. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Time turned. Mountains, so majestic that they could dumbfound even the largest of creatures, crumbled and deteriorated. The dry bones of long-dead heroes, no matter how praised, turned to dust. Things were changing.  
Time seemed to leave evidence of it's deathly touch everywhere. However, there was one place that Time was fobidden to enter. Mossflower country preserved it's natural beauty while all around it faded away. It was Autumn in Mossflower wood. Wind began to breeze through the stark trees in preparation for the coming winter. Leaves changed their hues, becoming an assortment of Reds and oranges and yellows.Despite their will to remain attached to their branches, they were eventually ripped from their positions and left to fall miserably to the earth. Dead leaves littered the ground, hiding sudden dips and holes in the ground. Fruits ripened and fell, only to be collected or left to rot. Nights grew short, days grew long, both began their eventual drop into chilling temperatures.

Nothing is perfect. Nothing will ever be perfect. This was made clear by the blot of Evil that ruined the purity of Mossflower like a blood stain on a satin dress. That evil had resided there, unnoticed and hidden. Deep in south Mossflower, Mirfang ruled. Strangers and wanderers who didn't know soon were aware, be it by word of tounge or swipe of sword. Even the small groups of raiders that wandered freely obeyed Mirfang's command. It was his private dictatorship.

To protect his authority in matters, Mirfang had formed a small army, one big enough to stand on it's own, but not so small that it would be ignored. More than 200 of various creatures, it was a formidable force. Of course, a single creature can't command so many beasts single pawed. Thus, Mirfang assigned the title of Marquess to several paw-picked vermin. He granted them designated parts of his land to rule. Regardless of their newfound power, they were still the lowest of Mirfang's ruling class. Second in power, directly above the Marquesses, were the horde captains. There were eight of them in total. In fact, these 8 were the first vermin to band with Mirfang as he created his realm. He trusted them, even with his life.

The sound of steel grinding against stone filtered through the thick fabric of the tent flaps, reverberating in the ears of every creature within hearing distance. With every stroke, the big weasel's Partisan became sharper. Truls Klavaar continued sharpening his deadly weapon. Even when it had bypassed razor sharp, he continued to slowly move the stone against the steel edge. It was a soothing sound to him, it left him feeling relaxed. He supposed that it was because of his life before he met Mirfang. He was a professional killer, a mercenary of sorts. He specifically hunted Wildcats. After a wildcat was killed, he would clean and re-sharpen his beloved weapon. The sound meant that the deed was over, that noting else was to hamper his progress.

He had met Mirfang through buisness. Truls was promised a high position in the horde as it was gradually building. And so, he became one of the horde captains. As it was, the weasel had a deep affection for another in the horde. Her name was Reene Scyia, a marquess. They had met when a small band had revolted a few weeks earlier. He continued to visit her several times afterwards. On his most recent visit, he had stayed the night. Unfortunately, they were forbidden to do such acts, as the power struggles that would eventually pursue would cause confusion, and eventually lead to a civil war. And so, their love would have to remain secret.

On the other side of the camp a crowd was beginning to form around two ferrets as they fought with their wooden sparring poles. The sounds of the poles beating against each other melded with the sounds of the other creatures standing around them, until it became a pulsating hum of noise. The ferrets at the center of the crowd were evenly matched in skill, but the larger of the two clearly had more experience and was slowly taking the upper hand in the duel. They circled in the ring staring at each other in anticipation. When one would strike the other would dodge the blow or counter with one of its own. Shouts of encouragement could be heard from the crowd around the two. "Come on Rhok, you've got her now!"  
"Don't let him get you like that, Katena!"  
"You've got her now, mate!"  
Rohk kept his sister on guard with his quick blows and started letting the blows fade upwards until he ducked down and kicked her in the stomach. This caused her to fall backwards into the crowd who pushed her roughly back into the center. Even with the wind knocked out of her she kept up a good fight, but failed to see the pole as it came crashing down between her ears.

She fell into a sea of black. She knew nothing of her surroundings except for a small ray of light that shined through the blackness. In the ray of light there stood a small mouse clad in shining armor wielding a wondrous sword. The small mouse pointed at Katena and motioned for her to follow him. She felt as if she wasn't even touching the ground as she followed the mouse. All of a sudden she found herself in front of a large red building. She was not sure exactly where she was, but she felt as if she had been there before. As she stepped up the the large wooden gates she heard a voice. At first it sounded as if it were coming from far away and she couldn't quite make out the words. As the voice grew louder, so did the clarity of the words. _Katena...wake up..._The message repeated itself over and over until she woke up, staring into the face of her brother Rhok.


	4. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The sky had long since turned a mixture of black and prusian blue, clouds covering the moon entirely, stars peaking through as their faint light barely illuminating the area to a point a beast could see his paws infront of his face. Despite the looming darkness, it was a rather nice night, warm, calm and refreshing breeze...

It was nigh on midnight, though the middle-aged Abbot was just returning. Father Uba, attired in flowing green habit. His hood was down as he basked in the tranquility surrounding him. He was bold, yet slightly foolish, to go out alone unarmed. A light flickered above the great wooden doors, a lantern, brightening the magnificient face of the young Infirmary keeper, and recent mother, Azuka. She was looking straight out, not casting an eye downwards, knowing Father Abbot would be returning soon. She must have recently relieved her husband, a hero amidst the Abbey: the Abbey Champion Kaipo. Their son, Rashid, however, was not doing too well, kept under constant care. The cheery mouse sipped from a steaming mug as she watched the Abbot's process.

Uba frowned slightly. Looked like the Dibbuns had thrown more clothing off of the battlements again. Before the gates was a dark bundle, which the Abbot calmly stepped towards. The lantern was left as Azuka left to open the gate. A moment later, she opened the heavy wooden doors to see Uba holding an otter, chestfur soaked in blood.

He looked barely over a season.

"Glad you're awake, Sister," he said urgently, rushing towards the Infirmary with the blue-eyed ball of brown fur in his arms.

Up in the dimly-lit room hardly a beast stirred, mostly due to the lack of beasts.

Save for one tiny, mischievious ottermaid.

Brin had been scampering under beds, over beds, through beds, behind beds, around beds, and then some, pretending to be searching for a magnificent treasure, accompanied by a delicious feast comprising of all the things she'd never tasted, but planned to sometime in the future when the old friar and his young, grumpy assistant weren't watching. She was having quite a merry time in her adventures, and had finished her fourth consecutive inspection of the entire room when she heard paws upon stairs. Her head shot around the room for a hiding place, and she quickly shot up under the covers of the nearest bed, appearing as a small, cozy lump.

Had Brin been one bed over, the otter would've most likely been plopped right on top of her. The wooden door swung open on its hinges, Uba rushing in to lay the wounded otter on the nearest bed. Already, his habit's chest was stained crimson from the wound.

As a whimper emitted from the young patient, the Infirmary Keeper began getting to work, first checking his pulse and breathing.

"F-Father, he's not breathing!" she voiced. Uba had found cleansing alcohol and bandages, quickly returning to the bedside.

"CPR, Sister!" he urged. If they didn't get him breathing, and quickly...

A pair of curious blue orbs peeked over the hems of the sheets Brin was residing under, and were soon followed by the rest of her. "Supwise!" her voice rang out, and she gave a little bounce on the mattress. She soon stopped however, as her eyes settled on the Abbot and the other teensey figure, an otterbabe like herself, and the crimson coating on both.  
"Wh...wh..." her high voice quivered; she didn't understand any of this! She knew that the red liquid was bad, but what was it doing? Still terribly confused, and growing more ferful by the second, she silently watched in a mix of horror and awe.

Uba whipped fully around, quickly setting aside the two items.

"Brin, sweetie-!" He scooped her up in his arms, rushing towards the door. He grabbed it, swinging it fully open, and set the young ottermaid down.

"Brin, you should be in bed!" he said, trying to keep cheer in his voice. Behind him, Azuka was pumping the bloodied chest of the otter delicately with practiced ease. "Run off now, alright?" he said, flashing a smile. "If your mother's woken up, she's probably wor-" He was cut off as a piercing shriek reverbrated from behind him. He turned around quickly to see the babe thrashing tiny limbs. Father Uba ruffled her ears, smiling reassuringly, before he dashed off to one of the cupboards, opening and beginning his digging.

Finding the herb he was searching for, he rushed to the otter and instantly began helping the Sister, using the herb to dull the pain best he could for the babe.

As the Father carried her off, Brin had already begun a wail of her own, which quickly subsided when she was released. She never really did cry without a tactical reason for it, and it had failed her this time. Still, though, no open door was going to stop her, and the added cries of the babe inside gave her more desire to persist.

As soon as she strode back in, however, she could just barely see the poor thing, high up on the bed, and she took a moment's pause, a sincere cry on its way. A moment later, though, she gathered her courage and suppressed it, instead waddling over to the bedside, standing on her toes and peeking at the babe with tear-glazed eyes.

As the pain-dulling effects began, the crying quieted, continuing on a dropping path until it was nought but a whisper. He turned his head to look at her, a new appearance. Her eyes were shining with tears...

_"Stay quiet, son," urged the full-grown male otter, covering the babe with a cloak. His blue eyes resonated confusion as he was hidden, mainly as to why his father's own eyes were filled with tears... His father took up a sword, rushing outside and closing the door..._

The babe abruptly turned from the ottermaid, looking to the Infirmary Keeper Azuka. She craned his head up, putting a beaker to his lips and tilting it. He closed his eyes as the refreshing liquid began to flow down his throat, setting back when he was done. She set the beaker aside, glass ringing as it clinked against metal.

_Loud clashing sounds reached the confused babe's ears. It almost sounded like his father was hitting his sword against something else metal; he had heard the sound before. In a moment, however, the noises stopped._

Brin stretched further, to get a better look at the babe, but teetered back, bumping into a chair behind her. She clambered up on top of the seat and watched from her perch, her neck craning as she watched the infant be fed.  
"'S he gonna be able to pway soon?" she asked quietly to the sister, tugging on her sleeve.

Azuka turned and smiled. "He should be," she said warmly, watching the Abbot out of the corner of her eye. He had taken up a needle, cleansing the wound with the alcohol. A few cries accompanied the action, the Abbot followed this by taking the cleansed needle, threading it. He began weaving it delicately through the flesh surrounding the wound. With each stitch, the wound closed by a fraction, and soon the entire wound had been stitched, and Uba began bandaging the wound.

The wound, having the rather uncommon shape of an "X", called need for the Abbot to wrap the bandaged over his shoulders, down his back, and around his stomach. Wrapping it around a few times, he tied it tight, repeating the process over his left shoulder.

"Looks like the kind of bandage you'd find on a seasoned warrior, not a Dibbun," the Abbot said, circling around to stand beside Brin. He picked the young ottermaid up, starting towards the exit.

"Br-" Already she had set up a wail. He quickly set her down, kneeling to her level. "Hmm," he mused, thinking of a way to get the ottermaid to leave the scene. "Brin, you should get to bed. You can visit him any time you want." He lifted her up, going to stand by the bed, holding the ottermaid up.

"But first, he needs a name..."

Brin fell into a thoughtful lapse of silence, and finally answered, with a sense of certainty, "Ahri."

"That's a fine name for him!" the Abbot praised, smiling. Ahri averted his gaze from the kindly Infirmary Keeper to the mouse and ottermaid. Blue optics blinked in confusion as he tried to repeat his name, "A'ri..." The Infirmary Keeper smiled up at Brin.

"Now, why don't you two head off for bed? It's pretty late, and I can take care of him on my own," she said. The Abbot hefted her up easily into a more comfortable position.

"So, Brin," he asked, "how about we leave and come back tomorrow to visit Ahri?"

The young ottermaid let out a tiny squeak as she yawned, and stretched slightly before curling up in the Abbot's arms.   
"Uh-huh..." she murmured tiredly.

The next day arrived rather gradually, as the clouds that had netted the sky before now blanketed it in a murky, stagnated sea of gray. That didn't stop the dwellers in the Abbey from getting up and tending to their usual business, and the conversations held were littered with rumors of some turmoil the night before.  
Several bits of the gossip caught Deet's attention as he first entered the grounds. He was dressed in his usual attire, a pair of worn slacks and a buttoned-up shirt that he tugged on uncomfortably. At his side he carried a cane with a mottled, dark-brown surface, which supported him as he hobbled his way to the pond for a morning wash. He was interrupted, though, by an all-too-familiar voice, and it caused him to cringe.  
"Unca' Dee'!"  
He turned to see Brin scrambling for him, and she latched onto his big, scarred tail. "Hiya!" she cheered, her eyes looking expectantly up at him.  
Now, it wasn't that he didn't like her, he just never had experience with dibbuns before, or at least not with any that wanted to follow him around persistantly. It also bothered him that her parents were November and Laike, neither of which he'd been on good terms with in the last few seasons. Regardless, however, he scooped her up in one arm and cradled her.  
"'Lo, Brin," he forced a smile, "Where's yer parents?"  
She let out a giggle and pulled on one of his bushy whiskers, "Dunno! I jus' came out t'pway with the odder!"  
His brow rasied. "Odder? Ye mean me? I was gonna go get a quick swim, though-"  
"Not you, Unca'!"  
"Er...Daddy?"  
"No!"   
"Mommy?"  
"Nuh-uh!"  
Defeated, he let out a weary sigh. "Who then, sweety?"  
Brin set about squirming out of his arm, scaling down his shirt and pointing at the Abbey building.  
"In the 'Firgary! Le's go!" she ordered, tugging impatiently on his pantleg.  
"All righ', all righ'! I'm comin'!"

Curled up in a comfortable ball under the green sheets, the otter in particular was still asleep. Azuka had fallen asleep in the bedside chair, book dangling from her paw. Not long ago, she had woken up, checked on the patients, then proceeded to her normal daily routine. As it was not winter, there was no outbreak of influenza, and there were not many other illnesses going throughout the Abbey. The Infirmary was probably the most private place a beast could go at this time.

The mousemaid jumped slightly as the door suddenly swung open, Brin, tugging Deet in after her, rushed in. She curtsied courteously. "Good morrow, mister Deet, Brin," she said. At the moment the two had barged in, Ahri had awoken, straightening from his shape. Catching sight of his tail, he took an instant interest in it, standing on the bed unsteadily and trying to catch it.

Over the bandages, he now wore a light gown, and once grabbing his tail, he fell backwards and shifted blue optics to Brin and the other otter.

Brin, of course, laughed gleefully at his antics, and was soon up on the bed with him, while Deet's brow had become furrowed with worry. "Whose babe is that, marm?" he asked the Keeper uncertainly. "I don' recall anyone celebratin' lately, an' 'e looks rather young..."   
His paw brought Brin away from the infant, as she had suddenly begun taking an interest in his tail, also.

The babe giggled as Brin too began toying with his tail. He blinked as she was pulled away from him by the elder. He frowned, wondering why they were being seperated. He leaned forward and crawled, plopping himself down next to Brin.

Azuka shook her head. "The Abbot found him outside the gates..." She continued in hushed tones, so Brin wouldn't hear her talking of the near-fatal wound on the babe's chest, explaining what had happened last night.

Once again, Brin was attached to Ahri's tail, somehow astounded by it, and hardly realized Deet's grip on her had vanished. The elder had taken root on another bed to continue the conversation, and his tone kept its low, suspicious growl.  
"Who'd do such a thing to a dibbun?" he huffed, "Did they see who did it? And how'd Brin know he was here anyway?!"

The mousemaid took a seat next to him, shaking her head. "No, sir. He was alone when the Abbot found him. He must've been hurt and left while it was still dark and while the Abbot was out," she answered. "And as for Brin knowing he was here..." she looked over at the two, Ahri's giggling having returned as both Brin and himself latched onto his tail. "She was here last night, when we were healing him, Father Uba tried getting her to leave..." At Deet's reaction, Azuka hurried on. "But you know children, right? Very inquisitive and persistent..."

"Yes, but this one is just a little too inquisitive, it may just land her into trouble that she can't get out of." he responded.


End file.
